Diamond in the Rough
by NymboDerp
Summary: Contrary to popular thought, Sena thought about girls often. Because Sena was a girl herself, but she wasn't like a normal girl, but Sena was determined to fix that. She was going to become strong. AU, fem!Sena, OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: I'm writing this because I think a female Sena is interesting in the fact that she has so much more depth than male Sena in terms of experiences. Sure, male Sena had problems with being a pushover, but as a female, Sena would have so many more problems, including her self-confidence, and her trauma, and it gives her so much more dynamic than her male counterpart. It'll be fun to see how this will develop… assuming I ever get that far.

Warning: _this first chapter isn't how the story will be narrated_. This is only to set the character of Sena the way she is supposed to be. Furthermore, this is a fem!Sena with a twist...

Published: 10 Dec 13

Edited:

* * *

Contrary to popular thought, Sena thought about girls often.

Sena thought about girls with their nice smells and cute faces; girls that were sweet, good at cooking, and had long hair; girls were pretty when they smiled, and put make up on everyday to impress the boy that they liked, making them look even more pretty than usual—and they had breasts, which allowed them to give warm and gentle hugs.

Sena thought about girls, because Sena wasn't anything like them, despite being a girl herself.

Despite being fourteen years old, Sena hadn't developed in the slightest. She was short, flat, and weak. She had scruffy hair that defied gravity, and when she smiled, she looked like a dork. She wasn't all that good at cooking, and she was too awkward to talk to people normally. She stuttered. She wasn't pretty in the slightest.

And that was why people had picked on her, because she was too ugly to be a girl, and too feminine to be a boy. She was an _it_, and she was _idiot-Sena with the idiot brain_. She was a gopher for everyone, rushing back and forth the school to fulfill some request that wasn't all that important, the sole purpose of which was to see her rush around in complete panic.

Sena tried to hard to change that, learning under Mamori to try and change herself, to become more confident, to be prettier, and to be more _girly_, but it didn't work. She was picked on even harder for putting her hair into pigtails, with boys tugging on them _hard_, and girls grabbing them, snipping at her hair with their flashing scissors and cruel words.

She had learnt that clinging onto Mamori had only caused them to retaliate harder: they started putting tacks into her shoes, she found her clothing hidden away inside of a toilet bowl when she went swimming, she tripped over feet often, and both boys and girls shoved her into a wall when teachers weren't looking.

Because it was all a game to them, and it didn't matter that Sena had feelings, or that Sena's heart was golden. It didn't matter that all she wanted was to make friends, and that with every little thing that they hurled at her, her resolve would waver, and she hid herself even deeper under that little thing called shame. Her bright smile disappeared under an expression of perpetual fear, and she shrank in on herself.

She lost weight, she had an unhealthy pallor, and her eyes were circled with dark rings because of her nightmares.

Her body was getting weaker with each day, and one day, she woke up in a hospital after having slipped into a coma while sleeping when she was eleven years old. She hadn't woken up for one year and three months and sixteen days, being fed through a tube, her breathing forcibly induced by a respirator for the first month.

Her body had been too weak to breathe by itself, so the machine had done it for her, the doctor told her. Her body was weak now as well, but she was going to get better soon as long as she did what the doctor told her to. Because she didn't want to be weak anymore, she nodded and did what he said, putting all her heart and soul into it, walking up and down the little walkway with her stick-thin arms clinging to the bars on her sides. Her small body was propped up by her father's large hands which dwarfed her scrawny body, and she never saw the pain in her father's eyes as she resolutely took one step after the other, her weight barely negligible to the man.

The one year and three months and sixteen days of being in a coma had affected her body drastically. Her muscles had atrophied, and her gender-specific features hadn't been able to develop properly from the lack of exercise and proper nutrition. The foods that they gave her were enough to sustain her life, but they hadn't been able to stimulate her brain to produce the necessary hormones for her growth. She was put through a regime of drugs that she had to take every day, morning and night, in order to stimulate the production of her hormones... But the price for these pills was too high, and after a month, they had to stop because her father wasn't able to pay for all the bills, when she had physical and speech therapy and tutoring as well.

* * *

Sena returned to school after four months of waking up, having recovered enough muscle mass to walk to school and back without collapsing. Two months later, she had recovered enough to run, and Sena found a release in jogging around the block under the watchful eye of Mamori and her mother.

One round turned into two, which turned into four, and soon Sena found herself jogging for hours upon end, sprinting along roads with Mamori at her side on her bike. Mamori had told her to try out for a club, but Sena told her it was all too late, and that she was going to have her end-of-year exams soon. She was going to be a high school student soon!

Mamori nodded, and after that, they were studying together. Page after page after page of formulas and English and Japanese and boring schoolwork, she found herself sitting in an entrance exam for Deimon High School in February in order to be with her Mamori-nee-chan.

And then it was the Spring Holidays.

* * *

And at fourteen, Sena was standing in front of a board, clutching Mamori's hand as they searched for her number.

_021…_

Searching all over the board for the number 021, Mamori found it quickly, and she yelled with happiness, making Sena want to yell in happiness too, but her throat was still weak because she didn't talk all that much. She didn't need to talk, since she only had her nee-chan, her mother, her father and Pitt to talk to. She didn't need anyone else.

However, Mamori went silent, and Sena looked up to see Mamori holding back tears. Sena put on a smile to show that she was going to be strong for her nee-chan because her nee-chan needed her one moment of weakness. No one could be strong forever, and Sena knew that all too well. Mamori smiled back at her a moment later, and she excused herself to go to the washroom to clean up, and Sena nodded, waving her off to freshen up.

Sena was left alone in the courtyard, surrounded by strangers and yelling.

And she suddenly found herself being grabbed by two strange boys, who told her to use their cellphone to talk to her parents, but she stared at them with wide eyes, too terrified to speak to them in case they turned out to be bullies too, and the big, big, _big_ boy had given her a smile that looked like a glare. She had flashbacks to the time when the boys in middle school had cornered her, beating her up until she was on the floor in a heap of bruises and cuts and tears.

Sena sprinted away, crying. She didn't see Mamori come back, to yell at the two for talking to her, making her way home from school, her tiny body weaving its way through the crowds with unerring accuracy.

Mamori came to her home the moment she left from Deimon to hug her, telling her that she was going to protect Sena from _Hiruma Youichi_ and _Kurita Ryoukan_ because they were both evil and would want to hurt her.

The next day, when Sena got dressed to go to school, Mamori came to pick her up, taking her to school with their hands held to make sure that Sena wouldn't get lost. Before they parted ways, she told Sena to make sure not to go anywhere near _Hiruma Youichi_, and Sena nodded tearfully, shrinking in on herself when Mamori was gone. Clutching her bag to her chest, she went to her homeroom.

However, she was quickly cornered by three much-bigger boys, who demanded her money and to buy them bread from the store. Terrified by the suddenness of the presence of bullies, she did what they told her to do, only to return empty-handed and shame-faced. Sena wanted to be stronger, but she bent to their will because they were bigger than her. She wanted to cry, but she held back her tears, flinching when they yelled at her for not getting their bread. They didn't raise their hand against her, though they dragged her to an empty storage room, intent on locking her in there, only to be distracted by American football gear, and Sena tried to escape from their grasps…

Only to be boxed in when the big, big, _big_ boy appeared, blocking her in the room, and she blacked out, her panic and sudden bout of claustrophobia causing her small heart to beat a little too fast.

* * *

Sena didn't know how, but when she woke up, she was somehow recruited into the American football team, unable to disobey the sharp glare of _Hiruma Youichi_ and _Kurita Ryoukan_, who seemed too nice to be evil, but Mamori had told her that demons had two faces that they showed to people. Too meek to speak out, she did what _Hiruma Youichi_ told her to do, running when he told her to, and to put on the uniform whenever she was going to play a match because if she didn't, he was going to shoot her and no one would be able to find her body.

She didn't want her body to disappear, because she knew that Mamori would be sad to be unable to bury her body when she was dead.

* * *

**A/N:** I made myself sad with this beginning chapter. But _starting from Chapter Two, the story narrative will change from the descriptive to the usual format_. It will pick up from the recruitment of the 11!


	2. Chapter 2

Published: 10 Dec 13

Edited:

* * *

By the fourth day of her first year of high school, Sena found herself strangely used to being dragged into the small storage room that served as the American football club's base. She supposed it was because she was used to being a gopher for people, and being ordered around was something she was familiar with. Hiruma Youichi had ordered her to be in the American football club, ergo she was in it.

She had been kitted with the uniform of the Deimon Devil Bats, jersey number 21, with a helmet that had a reflective visor that prevented people from seeing her face. And though she was grateful that Hiruma had decided to hide her identity... She knew that American football was violent, and that Mamori was going to be angry when she found out that Sena had been forced to join such a club-but she couldn't fight back when Hiruma told her that football was going to make her stronger and faster!

She was going to be faster since she was too weak to handle being tackled, and she needed to be able to _run_ to prevent herself from getting hurt, and she could remember Riku telling her that being faster meant that she was stronger- and Sena needed to be stronger. So she needed to be in the club to get faster.

However, how could she be stronger if there wasn't a team to play with in the first place?

Kurita Ryoukan had told her that American football teams had eleven players, but there were only three of them in the club: Himura the quarterback, Kurita the lineman, and Sena the runningback. They needed eight other players to make a whole team, and Sena was sure that they couldn't split themselves into multiple people to make the team. However, she held her tongue, not wanting to spite Himura in case he decided to shoot her.

Though she hadn't voiced a single thing to the two since she ran off crying in fear, Himura seemed to read her mind as he stood up to face both Kurita and herself.

"We need eight people to help us out for tomorrow's game!" Hiruma yowled with his loud voice, barring the door with his tall frame, a hand caressing the gun he was toting. "We're going to fucking split up and gather them!" He paused for a moment, before smirking. "Actually, we need _nine_ fucking people, and I don't care how the fuck you recruit them! That's three people each if you can't do your fucking maths!"

"We'll do our best, Hiruma!" Kurita chirped up as he nodded enthusiastically to what Hiruma was ordering them to do, eager to get new teammates to play with them.

However, Sena was stuck on the fact that they had a game—_the very next day_. Her breath got caught in her throat when Hiruma's eyes fixed upon her, seemingly judging her with his hard, verdant eyes. She wanted to protest against him and say that she wasn't ready to play in the game, but she stayed silent, too meek to protest, too terrified to speak her mind.

No matter how strong she wanted to be, she couldn't get over her fear of punishment.

Hiruma's lips curled into a smirk a moment later, and he loomed over her. She stared up with wide eyes, in terror over what he was going to do to her. "The guy with the least people is going to do a penalty game, since slackers need to be fucking punished!"

Sena could only nod, completely pale.

* * *

Uncharacteristic to his nature, Hiruma found himself contemplating upon the latest acquisition to his team, frowning to himself over the paradox that Kobayakawa Sena presented. Having not yet rummaged around her past, he was twisting what little facts he knew about her in his mind, over and over again.

Sena was frighteningly fast (_40 yards in_ _4.8 seconds_ was a speed that was almost unheard of for an untrained girl, nonetheless for someone who hadn't even been _trying_; and when she was... she was _4.2 seconds_, hitting the Light speed and was faster than _Shin_ of Oujou!), with surprising stamina for someone who looked like her. She was seemingly mute, though he knew that she could speak, albeit with a very small and hoarse voice. She was also extremely frail – he could see the bruises forming on her skin the moment anything _touched_ her, and how brittle her bones were beneath his fingers –, and for a girl in the middle of her puberty, she wasn't all that developed.

No matter how shit their genetics were, all girls had _some_ form of female curvature to their bodies by the time they were fourteen, but he could see through her uniform that she had the body shape of a _child_.

A grin appeared on his face at the thought of solving the paradox that made up the girl, he made his rounds through the school, not even needing to say a word for people to throw themselves at his feet, begging for him to let them volunteer for the American football team in terror over his wrath. Grabbing all of their names and classes, he found himself with over 50 _willing_ volunteers, 16 of whom were proper athletes.

Having satisfied his most pressing task, Hiruma made his way to the roof, pulling his laptop out of his bag as he settled down to get to work, popping bubbles with his gum with a quick chomp of his teeth.

He was going to settle his curiosity over the enigma that made up his runningback, and he was going to do it _now_.

Pulling out all of his contacts, he quickly retrieved all information of the girl from her birth (and even before that, finding out information on her parents, their history, and even the night of her conception), reading through the numerous pages with an increasing smugness.

The puzzle pieces in his mind suddenly fit together perfectly, and he understood exactly why the girl was the way she was.

Bullied from a young age, it culminated into the girl's body forcing her into a coma in a futile attempt to repair the damage done. Too fucking bad that most of the damage was _psychological_, and the coma did more bad than it did good. Her bones were brittle from the lack of exercise, her muscles were shot, and she didn't know shit about anything due to her loss of a year of education.

Not only that, but her internal systems had practiced mutiny. Her red and white blood cell count had fallen to dangerously low levels, and her organs were working at a less-than-optimum level—including her skin. It was probably why she still bruised easily, and her cuts didn't heal over as fast as most people's. Her body still wasn't working at a proper level.

However, what interested him was the treatment she received after having woken up from her coma. She had gone through physical therapy to learn how to walk again, and speech therapy because they had found that she didn't know how to speak fluently – a product of the bullying she had experienced since she was in kindergarten, and he noted with interest that the only reason she even knew how Japanese was because of her parents and the fucking Miss Perfect hanging around her -, had a bunch of shitty tutors to bring her back to speed with the rest of her peers, and she was supposed to be popping pills for a few years to fix the physiological damage… except her family had gone partially bankrupt to keep her alive in the hospital.

Popping the gum in his mouth, Hiruma shut his laptop with a smirk, fingering one of his numerous phones as he mulled over a plan.

Looked like he had some leverage over his fucking runningback.

* * *

Rushing back and forth from the houses that were waiting for their papers to be delivered, Sena found herself panting heavily from the exertion of aiding Ishimaru with his job. The papers in her hand slowly dwindled, turning from a thick stack to a thinner one, getting thinner and thinner until she only had one left.

Letting out a sigh of sheer relief, she placed the last piece of paper into the last mailbox, slumping against a lamppost in her exhaustion. She closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing.

Ishimaru had been the only person willing to join the football club when she had asked, though he had said that he couldn't join them tomorrow due to his job…Sena had quickly volunteered to help, determined to avoid punishment when he had mentioned that if he was done passing the papers out he would be able to join them.

Kurita had informed her that he hadn't been able to convince anyone, and no matter how gentle the boy was (she quickly reminded herself of Mamori's words, that he was a _demon_), she didn't want to have the least amount of people. She didn't want to be the one to do the penalty game…

Returning to the clubroom, Sena moved to stick up a badge to join the six that were on the board, all too aware of the incredulous look Kurita was sending her at the sight.

"You… you've recruited someone? You did it! We now have seven people in our team!" Kurita bubbled out in sheer happiness, lurching towards her in an attempt to grab her into a hug. However, just as Sena was about to be broken by his tight grip, Hiruma burst into the room with a forceful kick, a scowl on his face.

"The fucking store didn't sell any fucking sugarless gum!" He spat out, tossing the convenience store bag onto the messy table in the centre of the room, viridescent eyes gleaming in annoyance. "Even _flies_ don't go anywhere fucking near sticking _sweet_ gum!"

Sena's eyes widened in realisation of a greater danger, ducking behind Kurita and trembling as Hiruma marched up to the board muttering things under his breath, grabbing the box of badges and sticking up badge after badge after badge, and the number grew from seven to—twenty-three.

Too distracted by the growning number, she noticed Kurita's bulk shuddering under her hands all too late, and Sena quickly backed away, terrified by not only Hiruma's ire, but the emotional outburst from Kurita that was sure to occur. She only just managed to get out of range.

"WE DID IT!" Kurita yelled in happiness, jumping up and down on his spot, causing the ground to shake, kicking up paper and crushing empty cans under his feet. "WE HAVE ENOUGH PEOPLE—!"

He was cut off when Himura suddenly kicked him, sending him flying onto the floor, though Kurita didn't seem to care. He was too busy crying into the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"_WE_ DIDN'T DO IT, YOU FUCKING FATTY! _I_ WAS THE ONE WHO GATHERED THEM ALL, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING BASTARD!" Himura snarled out, the frown having been replaced with a feral smile. "Well, at least now we know who's going to be fucking penalised tomorrow!"

Himura kicked Kurita again for good measure, before turning to Sena. She froze, eyes wide as she looked up at him, shrinking back when he reached out to pat her roughly on the head.

"You did fucking _good_, getting only _one_ fucking person on the team. Now go the fuck home, and get your ass into bed. Your debut game is tomorrow, Eyeshield 21!" Hiruma exclaimed, cackling suddenly. Sena could feel a shiver going down her spine, and she nodded mutely, before sprinting out of the clubroom, meeting up with Mamori before she was late.

She didn't want Mamori to find out that she was in a club until much, _much_ later. Nonetheless a _violent_ club that Himura was captain of.

* * *

When Sena went back home that day with Mamori at her side, she found herself smothered by her mother's arms, the tightness of her arms causing Sena to gasp in pain at the pressure exerted on her ribs.

Mamori's eyes were wide, about to pull Mihae off of Sena to save her ribs from being crushed when she realised what the woman was sobbing about.

"Sena! The hospital! They've decided to offer you treatment after having considered your case as one that they needed to prioritise!" The mother blubbered out as she cried into Sena's hair, having been overcome by relief and hope from the sudden phone call from the hospital. "You have an anonymous patron who's willing to spend thousands of yen to get you healed!"

Sena's eyes widened.

"W-what?" She whispered out in shock, fingers shaking slightly as she reached up to pull her mother away from her to look at her straight in the eye. "Anonymous… p-patron? T-treatment? Are you s-serious?"

Mamori's eyes tore up, and she sniffled audibly. "You—you aren't joking, right oba-san?" She asked, her words trembling as she took hold of Mihae's hand, desperately hoping that it was true, and not some cruel joke. She had been hoping for a miracle, that her surrogate sister would be able to find treatment for the problems that she had encountered when she was young—and it had been handed to them, all so suddenly.

"No… No!" Mihae cried out, laughing and sobbing at the same time as she clutched her child into her chest again, all of her burdens suddenly leaving her as she kissed the top of Sena's head over and over again. "Sena… you're going to be alright now!"

No longer would she have to look upon her daughter's frail body and cry, knowing that all hope for her future family was gone. No longer would she be tormented with memories of seeing her child so pale and unresponsive on the hospital bed. No longer would she have to suffer the pain of knowing that the children she had thought her child's friends had actually been the ones hurting her.

Sena was going to be healed!

* * *

**A/N:** I'm on a roll today, aren't I? The Cupids vs Devil Bats match will be next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Cutting out unnecessary parts of the manga is what I live for.

Published: 11 Dec 13

Edited: 12 Dec 13

* * *

Away from the general bustle of the crowd, Sena was silent as she stood with her back against the wall. She was separated from the rest of her temporary teammates, clutching a clipboard tightly to her chest as she distractedly mulled over the happenings of the other day.

She was going to be treated. The medication she hadn't been able to take due to monetary problems was going to be available to her now… she was going to be treated, all for free, by some stranger she didn't know. It was a terrifying thought, knowing that an anonymous benefactor had so much control over her life. They could give her cure just as easily as they could take it away.

However, she couldn't tell anyone of her fears, or her problems. She couldn't tell anyone about what was wrong with her: it was too personal a matter, and it was too _demeaning_ having to admit to someone she didn't know all that well that without those pills, she wouldn't be a woman. She would stay a child, her growth stunted. She wouldn't even be able to build up muscle properly, or to grow taller to the height she was supposed to have.

She shifted the clipboard again, glancing down at her chest with a frown on her face.

Wholly undeveloped, it was like the chest of a boy's, only lacking the muscle definition that most people had. She could be easily mistaken as an overly slim boy, and she actually _had_ been mistaken as one before. Often

Sena wondered whether Hiruma was intending to capitalise on that fact, since he had given her a helmet with a reflective visor… Since, without her facial features to give her away, Eyeshield 21 would be male. No one would know that Sena was Eyeshield, because Sena was a girl, but Eyeshield 21 was a boy.

"So you're all fucking here, eh?"

All thoughts of her situation left her mind as she tucked her hair behind an ear, glancing towards the crowd when she heard Hiruma's voice call out a cackled greeting. She hesitantly moved closer to the other Deimon students as they crowded around the late blond, wincing slightly as they demanded Hiruma to show them the cheerleaders he had promised them. Sena prayed inwardly that he wouldn't take offense to their demands, not wanting to be subject to the business end of his multiple firearms.

Thankfully, however, he seemed to be in a good mood.

"Don't fucking worry… They'll be there," Hiruma promised with a wide smirk, before turning his head, eyes to locking on Sena's. He wordlessly beckoned her closer. Taking a few small steps towards him, she tensed when his hand reached out to take hold of the clipboard, pulling it out of her suddenly boneless grip.

Sena, though initially startled, relinquished it to him willingly, as Hiruma had handed it to her the other day; telling her that she was going to have to keep to her cover as the so-called 'manager' of the team if she knew what was good for her health. Quickly accepting the board before he could attack her out of spite and/or annoyance, she had been utterly unnerved by the glint in his eye, though she had quickly put her thoughts aside, having figured out by then that it was normal for the blond to be so… diabolical.

But now, she apparently didn't need the board. Though she had to wonder why he had given it to her in the first place, when she wasn't going to use it at all…

"Tch... it's almost time for the train to fucking depart." Hiruma muttered, even as he flicked through some pages on the clipboard, finding something of interest as he perused a certain page thoughtfully. He then looked up, glancing around them in irritation. "The fucking fatass better not be late!"

At the mention of Kurita, Sena realised that he wasn't anywhere in sight, glancing around worriedly. How had she missed Kurita's presence? It was disconcerting to realise that she hadn't even noticed that he wasn't around. Besides, having gotten used to Hiruma and Kurita, she found it discomforting when either of them weren't around.

She cleared her throat, reaching out to tug at Hiruma's sleeve.

"H-Hiruma-san…" Sena croaked out, words stilted as she formed them with a clumsy tongue. She belated realised this was the first time she was talking to him, and willingly too.

The blond glanced down at her, and for the smallest of moments, looked surprised at something. However, his features quickly relaxed into a wide and mocking smirk. "What is it, fucking _manager_?" He asked, sarcasm clear in his tone. "And speak the fuck up!"

"Ku- Kurita-s-san…" Sena mumbled, teeth clamping on her lower lip as she let go of his sleeve now that she had his attention. Her throat was clamping up, and she was finding it hard to remember the words to say, her heart throbbing manically under his scrutiny. She was so utterly nervous at having his attention, With every word she spoke, her voice got even quieter. "Are you s-sure that he… he is going to be h-here?"

Somehow catching the last of her cracking whispers, Hiruma cackled, making some of their (older) teammates tense up in terror over whatever plot he was cooking up.

"Of course he will be! He's just doing the fucking penalty game!" He announced in a sadistic pleasure, even as Kurita appeared in their field of vision, toting a mountain of boxes. Hiruma turned to Kurita, features shifting from sadistic happiness to smugness. "You're just on fucking time, fatass!"

Kurita sent him a gentle smile, apparently too used to Hiruma's mercurial moods to let them get to him. "It's a little heavy… I thought I was going to be late!" He exclaimed, barely looking winded as he tugged the boxes closer to the blond.

The mountain seemed even more imposing up close, more than three times her height. Sena's eyes widened when the implications finally hit her, and she could feel her breath hitching at the thought of a parallel universe where she would've had to carry all of that instead of Kurita.

She couldn't help the guilty relief that welled up inside of her, knowing that she had barely escaped the fate of tugging that to the train station. Sending Ishimaru a look of pure thankfulness (_thank God Ishimaru was there when she came around! Thank God he said that he would join!_), she entered the train carriage right after Kurita, oblivious to the piece of paper Hiruma slapped onto the door of the carriage.

* * *

Sitting down in the strangely empty train, Ishimaru's eyes were fixed on the strange girl that had approached him to join the American football team for the day.

He had been utterly surprised to see such a small child enter the track/field team clubroom the other day, with an even smaller presence than his own. He wouldn't have ever taken notice of the kid if the kid hadn't came up to him, grabbing his attention by closing the door loudly behind them. Greeting the kid, he had been stunned to realise that the kid was in fact a girl, having assumed that she was a boy due to the pants she wore (the girls in their school usually opted to wear skirts instead of pants, but it was an option available to them nonetheless), and the decided lack of feminine features.

Though he supposed that her doe-like eyes were features that could be considered girlish, as well as her pouty lips, but other than that, she looked like the average boy… An eight-year-old boy, that is.

He quickly bit back the inward guilt of thinking of the girl like this, but he couldn't think of another way of putting it. After she had quickly corrected him of his wrong assumptions about her with jumbled and stuttered words that he had barely been able to understand. Reassuring her and telling her to take her time with coming up with her words, he had soon been able to interpret "American football", "tomorrow" and "H-Hiruma-san", and he was more than happy to join the Deimon Devil Bats for one day.

Knowing that most people who had been forced to join the team on a temporary basis wouldn't stay in the team, he wasn't one to deny himself an opportunity to scout out the first years for potential runners. Besides, he couldn't say no when she had even helped him with his job in order to make sure he would be able to attend the game! Ah… What he wouldn't give to have such a helpful kouhai in the track team! Too bad she seemed to be Hiruma's handpicked manager, and she appeared to be comfortable enough in her role to stay with the devilish blond…

Though speaking of Hiruma, Ishimaru was suddenly reminded of something he wanted to ask him. He glanced over at the blond, who was oddly relaxed at the side of the gentle giant Kurita. "Are the opponents in today's opening game strong?" He asked Hiruma, wanting to find out more about the game he was supposed to play as the runningback.

However, it seemed that Hiruma didn't hear him, merely popping his gum with a smug look on his face, looking at nothing in particular.

Ishimaru sighed, resigning himself to a fate of not being noticed by anyone, including Hiruma's demon-hound, Kerberos. Though he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about that fact.

It was better to be ignored than to be chewed to death after all.

* * *

It was barely a few hours later when they arrived at the football field where the opening games were held, and Sena let out a soft puff of air, eyes wide as she looked out upon the field where teams were battling it out for possession of the ball; aiming to get it kicked through the posts, or to get a touchdown.

She had read a bit on the subject of football when Hiruma recruited her into the team, finding out about the positions and scoring systems, and was surprised to find that Hiruma had taken on one of the more damage-prone positions on the team. Though, she wasn't all that surprised: she supposed that it made sense for Hiruma to be the quarterback, since she assumed that Hiruma liked being in a place where he was in charge of the plays that the team made, as well as being the focal point of games...

There was a sharp blast of the whistle, and Sena's eyes moved from Hiruma's face back to the field. Someone had scored a touchdown in the brief moment she had looked away, and the score jumped up, furthering the gap between the two teams. Despite knowing – in theory only – about the sport, she was still in awe over the sight of people locking in on each other, crashing into each other in a terrifying show of power; and Sena knew that if she was hit with a tackle, she was going to break some ribs, protective suit on or not.

"That game is about to fucking end," Hiruma noted, a bored look on his face as he considered the teams that were on the field. He probably thought of them as teams they didn't need to worry about, though Sena wasn't sure how he could even do that, with how terrifying everyone seemed to be.

... But then again, Hiruma was stronger than Sena, and wouldn't be as easily intimidated by the people around him.

She sighed softly to herself, pulling out a camera from her side bag, when she noticed Hiruma walking off. Momentarily stunned, she quickly sprinted over to his side when he patted the side of his thigh as if he were calling for a dog to come over. Too used to this kind of behaviour to feel insulted, she kept herself right behind him, not wanting to get lost.

"Come on, fucking manager! We need to get kitted up!" Hiruma cackled as he led them over to the field that they would be playing on, gesturing at various boxes at the side labelled with the title '_fucking uniform_'.

Sena nodded, taking one box down and circling around the boys sitting on the grass, handing out protective padding and the Deimon Devil Bats uniform. She averted her eyes as when some of the boys stripped their outermost clothes to put on the kit she was hanging out, quickly making a second round to give out their cleats.

"Say… do you know who we're up against today?" Ishimaru asked as he took a pair of shoes from the box, putting them on with deft fingers. Looping the laces to tie them into a tight knot, Sena let herself be distracted by Ishimaru's question, though she could still note the sound of some of their teammates muttering mutinously under their breaths, causing her to bite her lip in worry.

The team's spirit was already so low, and they hadn't even started their first match…

However, Ishimaru continued to speak. "Hiruma's been fairly silent about it, so I was wondering if you knew, since you're the manager and all," Ishimaru stated kindly, standing up to take the box from her small hands. Giving her a smile, he patted her head with a gloved hand. "Though you don't have to tell me, if you're that shy."

Sena shook her head, needing to get over her dislike of speaking to people other than Mamori or her parents. "K-Koigahama… C-cupids," she informed quietly, having found the name of the team they were fighting when she found a programme lying forgotten on a bench. She fought the urge to flush as the boy smiled thankfully at her words.

"Thanks… I'll put this back for you, manager-chan!" Ishimaru said with his smile still in place, walking off without a backwards glance at Sena. If he had looked back at her again, he would've seen a strange look on her face, with wide and vulnerable eyes staring at his back.

That was… the first time someone other than Mamori or her parents had ever done something _for her_.

Raising a trembling hand, Sena placed a hand over her chest, feeling her heart thump rapidly at the sudden rush of emotion. Ten years of being bullied, and this was the first act of kindness anyone had given her. The first act of kindness from someone who wasn't a teacher, her parents, or Mamori. Willing herself not to tear up, she latched onto the first distraction she could find, setting out water bottles for the team to take when they were done with their match.

In her attempt to ignore the vulnerable welling of emotions inside of her, she was oblivious to the outraged expressions on her teammate's faces over seeing the Cupids and their… claim to fame.

"WE'LL DEFINITELY BEAT THEM!" One particularly furious boy screamed as he jealously watch a girl write messages on her boyfriend's helmet, making Sena jump, spilling water over the bench in fright.

Sena looked around in confused fear, noting the annoyed look on Hiruma's face at the noise. It was only then that she realised that the screams of fury had caught the attention of the captain of the Koigahama Cupids, drawing him over with his pretty girlfriend at his side. The sole purpose of his arrival was to taunt the Deimon players for their lack of female support, though it only served as a way for Hiruma to humiliate the Cupids utterly and completely.

Her fear turned to amusement at the sudden turning of the tables, Sena held back a smile as she handed out the cheerleading outfits to the girls, wondering how a single photo in Hiruma's hand had caused them to switch allegiances from their boyfriends to Hiruma.

But it was Hiruma, and Hiruma didn't fit the nice and neat laws of the universe, so Sena merely accepted things as they were.

Nodding to herself, she wiped the bench clean of the water she spilt, mulling over how she was going to fit in with the team once Hiruma decided to get Eyeshield 21 to play. However, she was snapped out of her thoughts when Kurita called her over, obediently moving to his side.

"Here… Sena-chan, I'll explain the scoring system to you since you're probably unfamiliar with the rules!" He chirped happily as he picked up a football from a box, holding it with his massive hands. "There are basically two ways of securing points in the game: one, by kicking it through the goal posts at the end zone which gives you 3 points," he kicked the ball towards her, pointing over at the place he was referring to, "or by running it into the end zone, which is a touchdown! That's six points, so it's a lot more beneficial to get touchdowns than kick-points."

Sena nodded in understanding, having read it up on the Internet the other day. Most teams looked for stronger runners than good kickers because of the point advantage touchdowns had, though she also found out that they were much more susceptible to getting hurt because of—

"SURPRISE TACKLE!"

Sena let out a shrill cry when Kurita suddenly lunged at her, looking demonic with his mischievously happy smile. She knew Mamori was right! Kurita was the devil, and he was going to crush her! She flinched, rushing away from him as fast as he could—

Only to be crash into Hiruma's chest, somehow having dodged Kurita's attack.

Sena let out a squeak of terror as she stared up at Hiruma as he picked her up by the back of her shirt.

"It's settled. You're going to be in the fucking match," Hiruma hissed in satisfaction, eyes lit up with a cunning light. "But only if we're losing. We can't have our fucking secret weapon out in the open after all… It wouldn't be a fucking secret then."

Sena trembled, wanting to shrink in on herself at his words. She... she didn't have a choice whether she wanted to play today or not, did she? Having witnessed firsthand just how violent the game could get, she wasn't sure whether she could be able to escape unscathed... Sena didn't want to get hurt, and to end up in hospital again. She hated the smell of disinfectant that hung around the clean rooms and hallways that made up the hospital.

However, Hiruma seemed to catch her fear, and he leaned in with his lips brushing against her ear. She shuddered reflexively, flinching back as he whispered, "And you're going to play, otherwise your little drug habit's going to fucking stop, and you won't be able to do a fucking thing about it."

There was a moment of silence, and she paled. How… how did he know?

The smirk only widened as they processed the startled look on Sena's face. "You take us to the Christmas Bowl with your golden legs, and I'll make sure your treatment continues! And if we win..." Hiruma paused, obviously baiting the brunette.

Sena gulped.

"... A-and if we w-win?"

"... I'll give you your life on a silver platter. Everything you could've ever wanted. And I _know_ what you want, and what you crave. All this, if you take us to the Christmas Bowl."

Looking up at Hiruma's serious eyes, Sena was silent, mind racing over her options. Minutes dragged on, and she finally made her decision. Opening trembling lips, she replied with her softly spoken response, fists clenched at her sides.

And thus, she signed the Faustian contract.

Hiruma cackled.

"Then let's fucking kill them! YA-HA!"

* * *

**A/N:** And here was part one of Koigahama vs Deimon.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I'm getting so tired of school. Note to the readers: I usually edit my chapters a final time one day after I post them. C_heck out the chapters the day after I post them_: it's usually of better quality.

By the way, I'm sorry about changing the order of (canon) events… It just fits better with my way of writing Sena's story.

Published: 13 Dec 13

Edited: 14 Dec 13

* * *

It was exhilarating.

The area around the field was filled with a sheer _tension_, making Sena sit at the edge of her seat, wide eyes fixed on the players as they crashed against each other. She could see how they strained to best the other with their power, technique and experience, feet digging into the soft soil beneath them in a futile attempt to find purchase that would give them that extra push, that extra bit of support that would allow them to overpower their opponent.

American football was a sport where you literally shed blood, sweat and tears into the grassy turf upon which you waged war. American football was synonymous with pain, yet Sena, for some God-forsaken reason, could feel herself yearn to be on the field herself.

She wanted to be a part of those fighting. She wanted to be able to join the others, muscles shaking in exhaustion, blinking salty sweat out of her eyes as she forced her body to go further than it ever went. She wanted to experience the taste of dirt in her mouth after having been tackled to the ground, knowing that that had happened because she was about to win over the other.

It was a terrifying desire.

"_LET'S KILL THEM!"_ Her teammates had yelled; a war cry that heralded the battle, eyes lit up with the desire to destroy and defeat. She mouthed the words after them, her heart bitterly complaining that she wasn't a part of the huddle. Yet she shushed it quickly, reason and sensibility telling her heart that she wasn't meant to be like them.

Nevertheless, Sena could still hear their cries echoing in her ears as she watched them from her safe area on the bench—and she hated this, having to sit down here, knowing that she could've been running… But she was suddenly struck by a strange confusion over the conflict between her mind and heart.

Why did she want to get hurt? She had nothing to prove, and no one who cared enough to want her to get stronger.

(Or did she?)

Despite her inner turmoil, Sena knew one thing that she couldn't deny: her heart still throbbed in yearning as she watched them rush towards the ball, the referee's whistle only a formality that made it legal for the players to crash into each other; power against power, and speed against speed.

The teams were equally matched, or that was what Sena's inexperienced eyes told her.

All of her senses were robbed by the screaming of the crowd, the pounding of feet against grass, and Sena could see the way Kurita's lips were curled into a beaming smile as he forced his way through the linemen of the Cupids, the way Hiruma's eyes were flashing in calculation as he considered their plan of action. Her eyes noticed the quirk in his eyebrow, and the grin that appeared in his lips when he spotted something.

And suddenly, the ball flew from Hiruma's hand. It flew through a narrow opening in the line, and Sena's breath hitched in anticipation at how the ball gyrated between the crook of an opponent's elbow and one of the linemen, sailing perfectly towards the receiver. Were they going to gain any ground…?

Her hopes were in vain. The wide receiver fumbled with the ball, dropping it and causing Hiruma to curse loudly over the incomplete pass. Sena wanted to curse too, except now that she wasn't so absorbed in the action upon the field, she could feel a sharp and intense stare upon her back. She could feel her skin prickling, making her want to rub at it to ease the sensation, but she kept her hands on her lap. She glanced over her shoulder instead, unsure of why anyone would've been looking towards her.

Two dark grey eyes met hers, and she paled slightly at the sheer intensity of the stare, unable to tear her own eyes away from the boy's now that they met. They were captivating, and so powerful, in a way that made Sena feel even smaller than she actually was.

His eyes seemed to tell her that she was tiny and unnoticeable compared to him, like an ant by the foot of a giant, or a puddle in the face of the ocean.

Unlike Kurita's gentle strength, every aspect of the boy - his eyes, his hair, his face, his body - screamed with power, and of a self-assurance that Sena knew that she would never be able to possess.

Sena quivered under the onslaught of his stare. _Please look away!_ She wanted to plead to the strange boy, unable to break the stare out of her own will, her breath caught in her throat. _Don't place such a strong, mocking look upon me!_

Her self-confidence, what little of it she'd managed to scrape together, had left her, and Sena felt like a baby once more; unable to cope by itself, needing to be fed, cared for, looked after. Unable to even lift the weight of its own head, forcibly bowed under by the weight of gravity.

There was a loud screaming from the crowd when something happened on the field behind her, but she couldn't turn her head to look. The boy wouldn't release her from his gaze, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment. All too slowly, his eyes finally pulled away from her to look over her head, and Sena could finally breathe again.

Panting and trembling as she looked down, she was ignorant of the frown that appeared on the boy's face, one that was full of curiosity. For he knew that Hiruma always had a plan, and Shin Seijurou was sure that the girl was part of it.

He wanted to find out exactly how she fit on the chessboard that they all played.

* * *

Time ticked away surely, and soon the match was in its final quarter, only a few moments before the final whistle.

The staring on the back of her neck had disappeared a while ago, and she wondered whether the disappearance of the girls were related to it. Ten minutes ago, the girls in the stands screamed and stampeded out across the fields, they converged at a single point behind her, screaming soon fading from their ears. After that, the itchy sensation on her back had disappeared, and when she dared to look over her shoulder, the boy with the intense eyes was nowhere in sight. Was he that coveted by women? she wondered. She supposed that there was something attractive about the silent stature of the boy, but she found him intimidating, only about to relax when he wasn't around.

And indeed, her body had relaxed, allowing a modicum of strength to reenter her muscles, causing her to let out a sigh of relief... until the minutes were consumed voraciously, every second ticking by causing another thread of stress to wrap itself around her.

Twenty seconds were remaining, and Sena's body was trembling again—only this time, in nervous worry.

Both teams were running across the field, but Sena could see the lowered spirits of her own team. They were running half-heartedly, despite the passion that raged inside of Kurita, and the increasingly creative curses from Hiruma.

Everyone was all too aware that the game was about to end, and that nothing was looking too good for Deimon. They were nil-nil with the Cupids - no, 3-nil to the Cupids, with ten seconds now left in the game. Ishimaru had been tackled earlier in the game, causing him to twist his ankle; and he had been replaced with a slower player. There was no way that Deimon would be able to stop another kick if they decided to score with one, nevertheless get a touchdown against the Koigahama without a runner, especially with how far they were from the end zone.

The Cupids were smirking, smug in their assured victory, now that they had more points than the Devil Bats. Deimon was going to lose—but Sena didn't want to taste defeat yet again, having experienced the bitter emotion for the past nine years.

She got up, and caught Hiruma's attention with a sharp glance, resolution lurking in the depths of her eyes. Hiruma could see the hesitance that she still had, instinctive and characteristic of the girl, but there was a strangely firm conviction that accompanied it. His lips curled into a wide and smug grin, and she smiled back at him; a shy, awkward smile.

Sena was going to become Eyeshield 21.

Hiruma promptly barked out for a timeout, cackling even as Sena moved to change into her gear in private, all semblance of modesty gone as she ducked behind a bush, stripping and tugging on the padding, the uniform, and finally the mask. One minute into the time-out, Sena sprinted back to the team, her head held high, and shoulders squared.

The girl standing there was no longer merely a girl. She was a man.

Unlike the girl that he inhabited, Eyeshield 21 was not a failure. No, he was the personification of success, of everything that his vessel was not. Eyeshield 21 was a symbol of victory, of speed, and Eyeshield 21 was never going to falter when on the field.

Coming to a complete halt in front of his stunned teammates, Eyeshield 21 seemed to be a figure of complete authority and confidence despite his small stature.

"You're fucking late!" Hiruma cackled out, before Kurita could get a word in, his face twisted up in confusion. He cocked a gun at the runner, the muzzle pointed at him threateningly. "I should fucking punish you for not coming on time!"

"I apologise. I will take on responsibility," Eyeshield 21 stated in a curious voice, high-pitched though hoarse, as if from disuse. The only part of his face that they could see was his lips, which twisted into a faint smile; reassuring in its cockiness. "Ishimaru-san… don't worry. I will take on your role as the runner and lead us to victory," he promised.

There was no doubt to be had in his voice, and there was a sudden lift in mood in the team. There was a sudden hope that was birthed in them, and the team went onto the field as one, Eyeshield 21 in the lead.

There were nine seconds, 58 milliseconds left, but that was all Eyeshield 21 needed.

The Cupids started off with a kick-off, the ball sailing through the air in an almost perfect arc into Hiruma's waiting arms.

There were seven seconds, 42 milliseconds left.

The blond grinned widely as he cackled, throwing it towards Eyeshield 21 with a skill that only came with experience. There was a moment of shock when the ball seemed to fit into his arms perfectly.

6 seconds, 11 milliseconds left, and Eyeshield 21 was off, tearing down the field with terrifying speed. Clouds of dust appeared with every stomp of his cleats, and it was only through that that people could track where the boy was.

Yard after yard was consumed hungrily as the boy ripped his way through the field. _What physics?_ his legs seemed to say, mocking the laws that made up the universe from the way they pumped, the way they propelled the small body forward, practically a blur from how impossibly fast he was.

However, though as speedy as a bullet, Eyeshield 21 didn't move like one, much to the surprise of those watching. Instead, he weaved around his enemies in a fluidity that emulated water rushing around rocks, stunning in his ability to move. But Eyeshield 21 didn't concentrate on such meaningless things such as his footwork, for all Eyeshield 21 could see was the end zone as it called to him like a siren's song.

His shielded eyes could see the lines that were drawn upon the field, telling him where he could go, what he should do, and he trusted in them completely. After all, seven people were left lying in the dust behind him thanks to his lines.

And with 1 second, 67 milliseconds left in the game, Eyeshield 21 was only a few yards away from the end zone. And he could see that there were four more people in wait... But he spared them barely a thought and a glance. Though they tried to dive down upon him, using their superior size and numbers in an attempt to trap him, Eyeshield 21 could see one line above all that called for him.

Blazing and bright, the line went straight forward.

With 0 seconds left, there was no more plays left for either team. It was the very end, and there was only time for one last, crucial decision to be made. But there was no question what either team was going to do. Rushing at the centre of the four, Eyeshield 21 trusted implicitly in his intuition, that some miracle would occur to allow him through—and there was one.

Kurita and Hiruma had somehow rushed forward to clear a path for him, forcing a path clear in front of Eyeshield 21, allowing him to break through the assault.

An arrogant, victorious smile appeared on Eyeshield 21's face as he rushed forward through the threshold into the end zone, unstoppable with his speed.

_"TOUCHDOWN!"_ The referee yelled a second after Eyeshield 21 entered the zone, though there was no need for such an announcement. Everyone knew that Deimon had won, 6 to three.

Even as Eyeshield 21 was surrounded by his celebrating teammates, and assaulted by proposals of joining their teams, behind the visor, finally… _finally_… Sena could taste the sweet, sweet flavour of victory.

She had _won_.

* * *

**A/N:** And here you have the first hint of Sena's femininity, as a girl can change her entire persona with clothing and make-up. Eyeshield 21's helmet is Sena's trigger, her safe-zone. Though Hiruma knows otherwise, she believes that her helmet is why she is strong, which is why Hiruma allows her to believe that: a runner that has no self-conviction will never be able to win. Her delusion allows her to be strong.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I've always felt that Mamori never understood Sena properly. So I will be reflecting this here…

Or so I would've said, if Hiruma hadn't taken over the fucking chapter.

Published: 15 Dec 13

Edited:

* * *

The pipsqueak really was a fucking piece of art.

Hiruma, despite how many messed-up humans he'd met and blackmailed through his life, had never met one as interesting as Sena. Well, rather than _interesting_, she was much more fucked up than the rest.

And this amused him, a lot.

Never a dull moment with the fucking wimp, after all, with her big fucking eyes and thin arms and past chock-filled with blackmail material. She would've been the amongst his favourite… _minions_, if not for the fact that she was fucking useful as his _teammate_ instead.

Though she was a complete wimp off the field, once she was on… _he_ was a complete son of a bitch with more balls than a fucking tanuki.

Hiruma found it interesting, what a measly mask could do for people. The moment one slid their mask on; they could change their entire persona because of their belief that they were someone else…

But he couldn't fucking care any less, in all honesty. The fucking pipsqueak was a means to an end, a way for him to play the sport he actually fucking _enjoyed_, and a way to get the fucking fatass to shut up about getting into the Christmas Bowl.

And because the pipsqueak was an important piece in his plans, he couldn't let that fucking Disciplinary Girl from taking her away from his grip.

"_Ho_…" He let out a huff of amusement, his smirk on his face as he walked away from the fucking girl towards his bag. "You won't let me get away, huh?"

It was all a part of his bluff: the confident smirk on his face, the firm set to his shoulders and the mocking tone to his voice. Hiruma was based upon intimidation and trickery; all fucking lies that forced the odds into his favour, no matter what he was playing for.

And Hiruma was determined to keep the girl away from _his_ fucking pipsqueak. Even if the midget was determined to stick to the girl's side like some fucking leech.

"I- I won't let you and…!" The girl exclaimed shrilly, making him smirk even wider as he grabbed for his little book.

He could see the flustered look on her face, one that betrayed her lack of confidence in threatening him into giving up the pipsqueak. She looked as if she were fucking constipated, increasing his general amusement at how hard she was trying to stand up to him.

He'd give her… say, seven out of ten for effort, but decimal point five for execution.

"So you're going to make an appeal for the removal of the sports club?" Hiruma asked idly, intentionally, but ironically, playing as the Devil's Advocate to the fucking girl.

Not that it would work, should she even attempt it. He was fully assured in his knowledge that without his say-so, _nothing_ in the school was going to happen. The girl could try all she wanted, as long as Hiruma was captain of the American football team, it would never be dissolved.

Smirking cockily as he lifted his book, about to flick through his blackmail book in order to scare her into silence, the girl spoke up again.

"That's not what I meant."

He paused momentarily, momentarily startled by the unexpected response. There had only been less than a four percent chance that he was wrong… Though he supposed that was his own fucking fault: four percent was higher than fucking _zero_.

"I will have you… disqualified from the tournament." She stated.

_Fuck_.

Hiruma went silent as he dropped the book into his bag again. His back was still stiff, but this time… in complete and utter shock.

He had too good a fucking poker face to show it, but Hiruma was tense. This sudden turn of the tables left him thumbing nervously his cards, bluffing that he had multiple aces in his hands when he actually had none. For once, Hiruma had been outplayed, and he…

He fucking _hated_ it.

Turning around to watch as the fucking girl – Disciplinary Committee's figurehead, a person to watch out for, a fucking _shark_ amongst the shoals – walked off with the one person he had been pinning all of his hopes on, Hiruma could only watch helplessly.

He could have blackmailed her into leaving the pipsqueak with them, but getting kicked out of the tournament, destroying their only chance for the Christmas Bowl—what good was a fucking ace when you couldn't use it in the first place?—was something that Hiruma couldn't risk.

This was his last chance after all.

His, Kurita's and Musashi's.

Clenching his fists, though his face stayed relaxed, he turned around to walk away, to let the girl with the golden legs escape from his reach… when her voice hit his ears.

If Hiruma had a single artistic bone in his body, he would've described it with some stupid shit, like how her voice sounded like the heralding of fucking angels. Too fucking bad he wasn't a sentimental fatass like Kurita.

"I'm s-sorry Mamori-nee-chan… I'm g-going t-to stay here," the pipsqueak said, and Hiruma wanted to cackle.

_Take that, you fucking bint!_ He wanted to yell at the girl's face, smirking as he looked back at his midget of an ace. _The odds are always in my favour, and you can go fuck yourself!_

"I will stay here, in the football club." Sena stated, her words for once not shaky. Hiruma would've bet half a million yen that she had an idiot's smile on her face. "I like it here, with Hiruma-senpai, a-and Kurita-senpai."

The girl had an expression that showed her confusion over his pipsqueak's words, and a sly grin wormed its way onto Hiruma's face. Perhaps he could use this for his advantage? The girl was like a fucking nanny for the pipsqueak, and while it would be a shit-tonne more work to keep her from finding out who Eyeshield 21 was, he could use her brain in order to optimise Deimon's winning chances.

He quickly made his way to the pipsqueak, grabbing her around the shoulders and pulling her against his side. "Sena-chan's place is with the American football club. Nothing is forcing her to stay!" He exclaimed with a cackle, ignoring the dubious expression on the fucking girl's face. "But there's no fucking doubt that being the manager and secretary to the fucking club is overwhelming her—and we certainly need to find a way to decrease it…" He trailed off, waiting for her to take the bait.

There was a moment, and he knew he got her; hook, line, and fucking_ sinker_.

"I'll take over the managerial duties then!" The fucking girl—now manager—exclaimed immediately.

Hiruma cackled loudly, because _fuck_ while that was a fucking tense moment, things had happened in a way that kept Hiruma in the advantage, with a genius brain willingly in his grip, a pair of golden legs to run them to victory, Kurita and Musashi at his back…

Oh, _yes_, things were looking good for him and the Deimon Devil Bats.

* * *

**A/N**: Ended it here, because I didn't know how to continue it. In the timeskip between this chapter and the next, they find out that they're playing the Oujou White Knights. And we're going out of canon to dwelve into Sena and the consequences of being in Hiruma's favour.

By the by, you really should check out previous chapters for edits, as well as looking at my profile for news when it comes to chapters and/or plot ideas. And soon enough, after the Christmas hols, I'll be going really sporadic with my updates because of my busying schedule with school...


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hahah… I tell myself that one day, I will go to medical school, yet here I am, creating implausible happenings in teenagers. The Asian within is so pleased with me. By the way, pairings are likely to not occur in this story… unless I somehow get struck with the urge to utterly destroy Eyeshield 21's capabilities on the field. Because honestly, I don't think that Sena would be able to bring herself to win against her boyfriend/crush's team, because she doesn't want to see their hopes being crushed due to her and her running.

That being said, I can't wait for the Bando Spiders match. (Insert a cackle here, because _damn_, I really want to see how Sena's going to react to losing her persona.)

Published: 22 Dec 13

Edited:

* * *

Sena had barely returned home, her foot just crossing the threshold into the entrance hall of their home when her mother swept her up into her arms, dragging her back out.

"We're going to be late!" Kobayakawa Mihae fretted loudly, even as she frantically checked the address a fiftieth time, thrusting the piece of paper it was written on into her husband's face. "I'm not reading it wrong, right? It's so far away from home! It's bound to take at least an hour to get there, with the traffic at this time being so heavy… I knew we should've called Sena back earlier!"

Shuuma merely blinked slowly, calm despite his wife's nervous energy. "Relax, Mihae-chan. We'll be there with plenty of time left," he placated, sending Sena a wry smile as they made their way to the carpark, where their car was waiting for them.

Sena sent him a weak smile in return before she ducked her head, averting her eyes from the sight of her mother's flustered state.

"We have to go to Joukamachi Hospial! That's Jou-ka-ma-chi!" Mihae exclaimed, obviously worried as she clipped her seatbelt on, fingers fidgeting once she folded her hands over her lap. "It's to the _left_ of the crossroads, and then straight down…" She reminded, rambling on, even as Shuuma chuckled softly at his wife's nervousness. While he himself was a little tense at what the doctor may say, his wife certainly took it to a whole new level, worrying enough for the three of them.

While Mihae began to berate her husband for finding the visit "amusing", their daughter lifted her head up again, turning her eyes to look out of the car window as they pulled out of the driveway, carefully making their way out of the car park to head towards the hospital.

Watching as they passed people by, as buildings flashed by her eyes, Sena idly wondered what it would've been like if she hadn't been herself. If she'd been more like… Mamori, or her mother, even.

She certainly wouldn't have been the way she was now. Taller, perhaps, with better posture and figure. Better grades too, and possibly with a group of friends that she hung out with often. She wouldn't have been mixed up with Hiruma-san, either… he wouldn't have bothered getting his hands dirty with calling her his acquaintance, and securing her treatment that she shouldn't have been able to afford.

It was strange, just how kind her elder could be, albeit in his dysfunctional and insidious way. At first glance, the blond looked as if he'd crawled out from a pit of the darkest sort—probably from a mosh pit at a heavy metal concert, considering the piercings that adorned his suspiciously pointed ears, and the angular jade eyes that looked so much like a feline's. However, despite his dangerous appearance, and his raucous laughter, he took care of his own, and made sure that his… pawns were in a position from which he could benefit the most.

Sena supposed she could respect that. At least Hiruma-san made it clear that he was using her for his own gain, and he made sure that while under his direct service, she was receiving benefits that had equivalent value to what she was doing for him. Hiruma-san was doing much more for her than the bullies that she had to play gopher for over the years.

Sighing softly, she rested her cheek against the cool glass of the window, her breath fogging up the clear surface as she closed her eyes, feeling oddly drained.

She was very much thankful for the blond, despite having known him for only a few days. He'd done so much for her already, though she hadn't done anything for him in return—just yet.

She had a new identity (Eyeshield 21, her other self, the success to her failure, the _yin_ to her _yang_), she had treatment for something that wouldn't have even affected her football, and she was bound to make a friend out of Kurita… Sena was indebted to Hiruma-san, and they both knew that Hiruma-san was all too aware of it.

A weak smile appeared on Sena's lips, wondering when he was going to cash in on her debt, and when he was going to spurn her and demand that she give him back Eyeshield 21, reverting her back to the meek little _it_ that she'd been in middle school.

She didn't want to go back to that, but she knew she'd have to eventually.

After all, nothing could last forever, other than the personality you had been born with, and the lot that you'd drawn.

But Sena was determined to milk her time with Hiruma-san for all it was worth, and to not regret this time when she could raise her head proudly and call herself a _winner_. She would force herself to become Eyeshield 21 for this short period of time, because that was who she wanted to be.

"… Okaa-san…" Sena murmured, her throat itching as she spoke suddenly, turning her face towards her alert mother. Before her mother could ask her what she wanted, she continued to speak in her soft and hoarse voice. "Please… d-don't worry too much. I will become better…"

For a moment, Mihae leveled a stern look at her, brown eyes oddly serious as they fixed upon Sena's similarly brown ones. For a heartbeat, the mother and daughter stared at each other intently, silently communicating with only their eyes, a conversation that the father was not privy to. It was only then that Mihae finally nodded, having seen something within Sena's eyes that had surprised her.

Self-belief.

Suddenly teary-eyed, though doing her best to hide it, Mihae reached out to take hold of Sena's cold hand, squeezing it tightly with her significantly warmer one. "… Alright. I… I believe you, Sena." The mother whispered, words thick with unspoken emotion and—dare she say it?—pride.

Sena's lips curled into a crooked smile, and for a moment, the woman could see a woman hiding behind the child. However, it soon faded away, and a flush spread across Sena's cheeks, and she ducked her head in embarrassment under her mother's teary gaze.

There was nothing to be prideful of, after all.

For now.

* * *

"—have to say, though, I disagree with your previous doctor's diagnosis. It is not as accurate as it should be, and your symptoms very much tend towards hypopituitarism, rather than being caused by your genetics and biology during that period of time." Uemura said, looking amused at the blank face that Sena had plastered over her features.

Being a neurologist, he was all too aware that she didn't understand half of what he had spoken about—ruefully, he recalled the days when he'd tore half of his hair out while agonising over the overly-complicated terminology that seemed to prevail over all areas of science—, but he needed her to understand her symptoms, as well as what they entailed.

After all, her previous doctor had been… much too hasty in his opinion, when they had diagnosed her, and he needed to make sure that she was aware of this lapse in professional judgement. Attributing to her lack of growth and sex hormones to her young age and unfortunate coma, they had prescribed medication to her that, while partially beneficial as they stimulated the respective glands that produced said hormones, would not help her cope with the problem that her early lifestyle had caused.

She was suffering from a curious branch of hypopituitarism, with her pituitary gland underdeveloped due to malnutrition and brain trauma from a young age, which meant that her body couldn't produce the relevant hormones that she needed for her body to mature into its adult state.

Offhandedly, Uemura noted that the girl was lucky, as she didn't seem to be suffering from any of the possible symptoms associated with her disease. She wasn't exhibiting any secondary diseases caused by hormone deficiency, nor was she obese. In fact, she was the complete opposite, being severely underweight for her height.

Perhaps he should write that down too, in his private notes for the girl's parents: a healthier diet, regular exercise (she had little to no muscle mass, though that was mostly in her upper body: her lower half seemed to be normal), and to make sure that she checked in regularly at his clinic, so that he could observe her progress and whether her symptoms worsened or got better after prescribing the relevant drugs.

Turning his head away from the blank-faced girl, he turned towards her parents, easily relaying to them what he intended for their child, and the regime she would have to keep in order to help her cope with the disease she was suffering from, writing out a prescription for them to take.

It would last them a month, he mentioned, as she would have to take a pill once a day, a few hours before she slept in order for her to experience the most benefits. Perhaps she could take it after dinner, he suggested, since the pill would be digested much more simply with some food, though they would have to make sure to keep her away from things such as caffeine, depressants or any other stimulant/inhibitor, as they might affect the effectiveness of the drugs he was prescribing.

"Furthermore, you should be aware that the drugs… they won't take an effect immediately," he warned, pinning the mother with a sharp look, having seen the hope fluttering in her eyes that her daughter was going to have a miracle cure.

Uemura was all too aware of parents having unrealistic ideas that a cure was going to take place immediately, but with something as delicate as this, Sena's development was going to happen over a period of months, if not years.

"You may see a change within your daughter's figure after a few months, perhaps five or so, so please do not be too disappointed when nothing seems to happen at first..."

Mihae nodded frantically. "Of course! I understand fully, and I'm sure that Sena-chan does too!" She grabbed hold of her husband's hand, letting out a soft and trembling sigh of relief and happiness.

Shuuma patted his wife's hand comfortingly, silent though it all though constantly listening, though the smile on his face showed Uemura just how relieved he was too over the knowledge that his daughter was going to have a cure.

"Thank you so much, sensei… We've been so lucky that we've met you, and had that wonderful sponsor!" Mihae prattled on in her deliriously happy state, ignorant of Uemura's sudden paling at the mention of the sponsor. She continued on, much to his chagrin and reflexive fear. "Oh, if only we could meet them in person! I would love to thank them, for all that they've done for my little Sena-chan…"

Oh, if only the poor woman knew just who their anonymous and mysterious sponsor was… She wouldn't be so relieved and happy then. Uemura fought off the guilt at the thought, and couldn't help but feel rather sorry for the little girl sitting on the seat in front of him. It didn't bode well for her to have Hiruma Youichi's attention on her—enough so that he would do her favours without her knowing.

He pushed aside his feelings with the ease of long practice, however, smiling easily at the family as he stood up to signal the end of their visit. As they thanked him profusely—he waved off their "thank you"s and "here's a gift for your generosity and help"s—he led them to the door, giving them directions to the relevant chemist, he let out a soft sigh, moving to sit down on his rather comfortable couch and tried to relax.

It was always nerve-wracking when Hiruma came to visit, after all.

* * *

**A/N:** We can all imagine what Hiruma's going to do to that poor neurologist while he wrangles Sena's information out of him despite patient confidentiality. We won't be seeing too much of him in the future, however, other than during Sena's occasional trips to Joukamachi Hospital.

By the way, I'm wondering if my characterisation of Sena in this particular story is something that people like? I've tried to do a female Sena with a twist, and I wanted something that was realistic, and a proper flaw to her character. Sena in the manga/anime seemed to be a little too… flawless, in the sense that he changed his disposition all too quickly, without reverting to his original personality at all…

(Please review, too. It makes me feel fuzzy and warm inside, and it makes me want to update faster. That, and I know that people actually like my story?)


	7. Chapter 7

Published: 28 Dec 13

Edited:

* * *

The day after their match with the Koigahama Cupids, Sena quietly walked along the shaded path that led to the American football clubhouse, enjoying the single moment of tranquility that only solitude could bring. She paused for a moment, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

She loved Mamori-nee-chan. She really did. However, there were times when her companionship seemed to suffocate her, with how much Mamori doted over her person, treating her as if she were a porcelain doll that would break at any moment. It didn't help that her surrogate sister was now the co-manager of their team, allowing her to be even more overbearing than before.

Before Hiruma had introduced her to Eyeshield 21, Sena would never have considered Mamori's protection as stifling… but now, Sena couldn't help but note just how little breathing space her childhood friend gave her, and just how little she trusted Sena to be able to take care of herself—not that she couldn't understand it, of course. Sena hadn't ever shown Mamori that she could stand on her own two feet.

But even then… it wasn't Sena. It was Eyeshield 21.

Biting her lower lip at the thought, she dug into her bag to look for something that could distract her from her thoughts. Her fingers brushed over numerous objects, before she settled on a particular one, pulling out a small booklet that she used to compile all that she could scrounge up that was related to American football.

Just yesterday, she had scrawled down the table that the tournament followed, wanting to make sure she knew exactly who the Deimon Devil Bats would go up against next, and since they had beat the Cupids…

"The s-second game… is against the Oujou W-White Knights." Sena mumbled to herself, looking at the table and the scribbled list of teams who had won their first matches.

She frowned slightly, wondering why the name seemed so familiar. She couldn't recall exactly where she had heard it—but it was something significant.

Maybe she could ask Kurita about it, even if he might lie to her. (She knew just what a demon he could be, and while he _seemed_ gentle and nice at first, she knew better.) Nodding to herself at the plan, she hurried towards the clubroom, knowing that Kurita was likely to be there.

However, as she opened the door, she was stunned into silence at the drastic change of the room.

It was… _pristine_.

The surfaces sparkled with a light that bespoke of loving care; the posters that were plastered to the walls were crisp and new; the footballs were polished and clean, despite their battered edges… And the cause of it all was greeting him with a beatific smile on her face.

"Good morning Sena!" Mamori called out the moment she noticed Sena, wiping the walls with an apron draped loosely on her figure. "It was a little dirty before, so I decided to clean it all up… It might not be that different from before though," she added, looking around doubtfully.

Sena shook her head in amazement, gazing up at her surrogate sister with pure awe in her eyes. How did she do such things…? No matter how overbearing she could get, Mamori would nevertheless be a miracle maker, and Sena… well, she was used to her over-protectiveness. She could deal with it, if it meant that Mamori would be able to teach her exactly how to become just like her: beautiful, strong, and utterly mindblowing-ly skilled.

"I-it's nothing like before… You're amazing!" Sena murmured honestly, reaching out to take Mamori's hand, squeezing it.

Mamori beamed at Sena, looking pleased at her words. "Thank you! It wasn't anything though… there's nothing much to be proud about," she said bashfully.

And the door slammed open, accompanied by a loud and surprised cry. "It's sparkling! Wow!"

Kurita made his way into the clubroom, burdened by seemingly thousands of packed shopping bags, seemingly unbothered by the weight of it all. "That's amazing!" He breathed out, even as Mamori and Sena stared at him in morbid amazement.

_No, _that's_ amazing…_ Sena wanted to tell him, watching as the boy began to unload his bags, unpacking the boxes of pâtisserie with a completely nonchalant expression on his face, as if it were something he did everyday. And looking at the ease he did it with, she was sure it was.

"This is Sena-chan and Mamori-san's welcome party!" Kurita announced firmly, cutting a few slices of everything, loading it onto Mamori and Sena's plates, oblivious to Sena's cowed expression.

She couldn't… she wasn't allowed to eat these sweets. Uemura-sensei had made her promise to regulate her diet, and to try and avoid sweet things unless she were going to do extremely and very rigorous exercise—and football practice wasn't deemed, apparently, extremely and very rigorous exercise.

Forcibly seated at the table, Sena watched as Kurita and Mamori began to feast on the delectable pastries lain out before them, enviously eyeing Kurita as he chewed on a large slice of cake, covered with a generous layer of sugary vanilla icing, the spongy body of the cake delightfully moist and smooth, complementing the rich tang of the mango that accompanied the cake.

"The vanilla beans they used must be of such high quality!" Mamori gasped out as she took a large bite out of the cream puff in her hand after having extolled the virtues of Kariya's gourmet cream puffs. "To retain such a rich flavour of vanilla, despite the addition of heavy cream, lemons, and eggs…"

"I agree! Ah… those wonderful black granules truly do add a whole new dimension to Kariya's masterpieces…" Kurita agreed, a gleam in his eye as he found a fellow connoisseur in the art of dessert gastronomy. Ah… if only he could've found this delightful woman earlier in his life! They would've pursued the life of food-based hedonism, chasing down every trail that promised a hint of an orgasmic meal, of that one particular sauce that would make sinners weep in repentance for just one drop more…

However, all happiness at finding a kindred spirit left as the door slammed open.

Kurita let out a heartbroken wail as Hiruma kicked the table, launching pastries and cakes and tea all over the place. "Hiruma!" He cried out, looking utterly betrayed as he salvaged what little he could, using his body to protect what he had gathered before Hiruma could get it into his head that he could destroy Kurita's happiness further.

Sena couldn't find it in herself to feel bad, however, even as Mamori rounded on Hiruma for tossing her cakes. She hadn't been able to share in the wondrous desserts that Kurita had bought for them after all.

In fact, she had a hint of a smile on her face as she watched Hiruma talk back at Mamori, wondering just when she had gotten used to the crazy events that were linked to their football club.

"I-it's kind of scary how quickly you get used to all of this…" She murmured up at Kurita, who merely nodded in response. They both watched as Hiruma flipped the table cover over, revealing a miniature football pitch, dumping the contents of a box onto the table.

"Yeah… but that's Hiruma for you. You just get used to him…" Kurita chuckled at her words, a gentle smile on his face as he moved forward, curious as to what the plastic lumps on the table were. Sena joined him at the table, carefully prying one of the figurines from the pile and inspecting it.

"… I-Ishimaru-senpai!" She gasped softly, once she noted its features. "Isn't this him?" She asked Kurita, eyes wide as she showed him the doll in her hand.

"Wow! Hiruma, did you make these?" Kurita asked in awe, inspecting his own doll and wondering just how long it would've taken to make all of these…

"I made them all last night," Hiruma cackled out, looking overly amused at their awed expressions. "But alright! It's time to make our game plan!" He announced, grabbing a chair and pulling it over, sitting down with a grand movement. He then snatched the figurines out of Sena and Kurita's hands, quickly setting out the figurines into their positions.

He suddenly smashed through everything, sending broken bits of figurines everywhere, Eyeshield 21 in his hand. Cackling as he destroyed his carefully constructed toys, Sena watched with wide eyes, looking half-terrified at the game plan that Hiruma had in mind.

_S-she was going to die…!_

"What you doing? That's against the rules! You can't start off with the ball if our team is on defence!" Mamori gasped out, before marching up to the table, a frown on her face as she snatched the little Eyeshield 21 out of his hands. "Honestly—if even _I_ know this after reading about it just yesterday, what does that say about you?"

Hiruma's eyes flickered up in momentary surprise at her daring move, before a cocky smirk appeared on his face.

"… Are you implying that you know all the rules after just one night, fucking manager?"

Mamori paused.

Sena bit her lip, noting the challenge that had sparked in her surrogate sister's eye. It wasn't often that Mamori got riled up, but when she was impossible to dissuade.

"I remember all of it!" Mamori hissed, hands planted firmly on her hips as she glared down at Hiruma.

"_Oh_…" Hiruma all but crooned, looking smug as he held out three fingers. "So you'll be able to answer three, so-very-simple questions that I give you, yes?" His sly eyes went hard, and his smirk turned into a threatening grin. "If you get more than _two_ fucking questions wrong, you'll stop opposing me!"

"That's fine with me! And in return, if I answer them all right, you'll promise me this… _you'll stop harassing Sena_!" Mamori snapped, utterly rooted in the belief that Hiruma had blackmailed Sena into joining the team.

Sena really wanted to tell her that no, Hiruma didn't force her to join the team, that she was actually Eyeshield 21 and that Hiruma had let her _grow_, let her become someone who wasn't herself, but she held her tongue because she was still Sena; shy, stupid, naïve little Sena, who didn't know her left from her right, who was an _it_, and who should've been aborted the moment she was conceived.

She knew the words whispered behind her back, had heard them as she loitered behind a corner. It was such a shame that her mother hadn't dropped her as a child, it was such a shame that she was so stupid, it was such a shame that her parents didn't pull her out of school for being such a disappointment. Why was she even trying? She couldn't stand up for herself after all, relying on someone else—Mamori—to fight her battles for her; _obviously_ she wasn't useful for anything. Sena wasn't even worth fucking, her body that of a child's.

Her fists clenched at her sides, and she clenched her eyes shut at the same time.

A familiar weakness was washing over her body, making her want to crouch down, cry into her hands, feeling as if she were five years old again and utterly alone in the playground with sand in her hair and bruises on her back—

But she couldn't let that weakness take over her.

"… Kurita-senpai…" She mumbled even as Hiruma and Mamori began to argue in the background, her teary eyes meeting the gentle boy's.

"Yes, Sena-chan?" Kurita asked, looking somewhat surprised at her sudden call. She'd always been quiet around him, after all, and she rarely spoke to him more than once every session. "What is it?"

"… I want you to train me, p-please."

Kurita fell silent, watching idly as Hiruma suddenly strolled out of the clubroom with Mamori darting after him with a startled look on her face. He mulled over Sena's request, looking slightly doubtful as he considered the pros and cons, and what he could ever possibly teach her. She wasn't a lineman, she was too small for that, but what he could do was…

He could teach her to withstand force. He could bench-press 160 kilograms of weight- and he was sure that she could barely do 10 kilograms herself. If she could withstand his tackles, his bumps…

Perhaps she could grow stronger.

"… Alright." Kurita finally agreed, a smile slowly forming on his lips. "Alright."

Sena's answering smile was radiant, and she suddenly darted forward—her body disappeared from his sight from how _fast_ she moved—and wrapped her arms as best as she could around his waist.

"Thank you!" She cried.

And for once, her voice was clear.

* * *

In the days until the match against Oujou White Knights, Kurita would spend hours with the small girl, teaching her to withstand his tackles when he lunged for her.

Her ribs would ache, and she would lose her breath, but she healed and she learned.

He would throw the ball high into the air, and she would chase after it with a breathless smile, sprinting across the grassy field with starlight in her eyes and determination painted on her face. He told her to run, to run with all of her heart and soul because she was _lightning_; she was untouchable for those precious few seconds that she could sprint at... and run she did.

Her legs pumped, and her body would buckle, and he would pick her up each time and set her on her feet again.

Even if she could not stand up by herself, he would stand up for her, for that was what a lineman did: they would support the runningback and forcibly open up a path for them to run along even at the cost their own body. His pride was his protection, was his strength; and her pride was her speed.

For power alone would not be enough to overcome her speed, and that was what Kurita was counting on when they went against the White Knights.

* * *

**A/N:** This is one change that I made with my Sena. Unlike the canon!Sena, female Sena has no such thing as masculine pride to cling onto. She knows she is worthless right now, and has no qualms in asking Kurita to help her get better.

She is still easily hurt, and she bruises easily, but she wants to learn how to take the abuse that American football brings. These training sessions with Kurita are what allows her to have the pain tolerance that canon!Sena has at first, but she also learns how to hold the ball properly with Kurita's guidance.

Unlike the senpai-kouhai relationship Kurita and Sena share in the manga/anime, they are much closer in this story… since every person needs a sibling figure that won't coddle them, but instead will encourage them to grow; and Mamori cannot be that person for Sena. At least, not just yet.

The match will be next chapter.


End file.
